Oct 13, 2015 Original Poetry, Writing 201
My Dog’s Neighborhood — And Wilderness is Paradise, Enow*
[Day 7 – Ballad (sort of), Assonance, Neighborhood]
©October 13th, 2015
By Vijaya Sundaram
This is a tale of her and me
The human and the canine soul,
My tail’s aloft, my nose so keen
And wilderness our goal.
My nose, so sensitive, so black
Tells me tales I can’t resist,*
Leads me on to unknown places
Hints of those I might have missed.
With such a nose, you really know
What loveliness resides
In every corner of this world
Where I, a dog, abide.
Behold! My neighborhood so fine,
Full of racoon, rich with skunk,
Redolent with pine and flower
Makes me feel completely drunk.
Here comes my human, full of smiles,
Thinking I don’t get her talk.
She speaks to me as might a child,
And says the magic words, “A Walk?”
I bound right up, my ears aloft,
My nails go skitter-scritch
My tongue lolls out, my tail’s a-wag,
With wanderlust, I itch.
We walk on past the neighbor’s house,
Onto the next, we go,
I hear the buzzing of his bees
Like traffic streams, they flow.
Then, past those sullen houses grim,
Where no one that I see
Comes running out to say hello,
Or smile, or wave at me.
And then, that house right down the street
With great, big, droopy dog.
He yells insulting epithets
Like “Daughter of a Frog!”
Forget that dog — just look at us —
A human and a canine soul,
My tail’s aloft, my nose so keen
And wilderness our goal.
My human walks across the bridge
With monsters right below
I yearn to make a bolt for it,
But walk along, head low.
Then, joy, into the woods we run!
Past leafy underbrush,**
Past muddy pond where once last year
Some geese thrived in the rush!***
I paid no heed to them, because
They tend to hiss and run
And hissing creatures put me off
They really are no fun.
And, now, unleashed, I walk along
My human by my side.
Then, bolt in front, and rush behind
And check the woodland wide.
We walk past rocks, and leaves and bogs
We race on up the hill,
Until she stops, and pants, and rests
Upon a rocky sill.
I see a squirrel, want to run,
But hold myself in check
Let me be honest, ’tis my boss —
Her hand upon my neck.
Behold, these woods, so rich, so green
So full of scents divine,
So fresh and full of beastly smells,
But not a beast I find
There is no need to long for them,
When so much wealth is near,
For I’m a dog, and life is good,
(Oh, look, there goes a deer!)
This is a tale of her and me
My human and my canine soul
My nose finds tales, my tail’s aloft
And wilderness our goal.
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In the heading: *With apologies to Omar Khayyam, for stealing his phrase “And Wilderness is Paradise enow!”
*My family thought the earlier line, “Tells me tales of that and this” didn’t work well with “missed,” so I changed it to “tells me tales I can’t resist.” Now, it works!
**I have to credit my husband for finding a flaw in this stanza where I’d written “leafy undergrowth” and I’d rhymed it with “some geese plighted their troth” in my earlier version. He said it didn’t work. I flailed around, and then … my daughter came to my rescue (see below).
***And I have to thank my daughter for suggesting that I change it from “leafy undergrowth” to “leafy underbrush,” and also for suggesting that I change that last line from “some geese plighted their troth” to “some geese thrived in the rush.”
Thanks, loves!
Tags: #Writing 201, ballad, Canine tales, Dog-story, Neighborhood, Wilderness